ollowing, into an unoccupied corner of the parlor, which
was, however, vacated the moment after, in answer to the dinner-call.

"Who is gone?" asked John Crawford, alarmed.

"Marion Hobart--gone--gone away. Oh, what can it all mean?" said poor
Bell, almost distracted with trouble and wonder.

"Marion Hobart gone? gone where--gone how?" asked John, grasping Bell by
the arm with his one unwounded hand.

"I do not know--oh, I am half crazy!" said the poor girl. "All that I
know is, that she has left this house in such a manner that she
evidently never means to return to it."

"My God!" said John. "My oath!--I swore to take care of her! Tell me,
quick, what is it that has happened?"

"I will tell you all that I know," said poor Bell, "only give me time
and do not frighten me any worse if you can help it. You know Marion was
unwell, and that she went up-stairs and lay down on her bed. Her room is
up yonder on the next floor, number Fifteen, very near the head of the
stairs. Mine is number Sixteen, adjoining. She lay on the bed, and I sat
beside her, chatting with her, though she seemed to speak wildly and as
if frightened. After a while she seemed drowsy and appeared to wish to
go to sleep. I thought I would leave her alone, then, for a little
while, to sleep; and I took my book and went out on the little balcony
at the end of that corridor. I was reading 'John Brent,' and I suppose I
got crazy over the galloping horses going down to Luggernel Alley, for I
read for perhaps an hour without hearing or seeing anything else than
the things in my book. Then I went back to Marion's room--it was not an
hour ago--and she was gone!"

"But she may have gone down on the Island--she is a strange little
mortal--she may be out on the balcony over the rapids. What makes you
think that she is _gone_, as you call it?" asked John, terribly excited,
while all the others listened with strange interest.

"Oh," said Bell, "I know that she is gone for good" [_Americanice_,
"finally"] "and I knew it the moment I entered her room. Her large trunk
was gone--the one you bought her the other day, John; her clothing was
gone--everything."

"Astonishing!" said Richard Crawford.

"This beats romance!" said Tom Leslie.

"It just beats the _d--l_!" said John Crawford, who must be excused for
using such words in the presence of a lady,--because he was only a rough
soldier. "And that is all you know, is it, sister?"

"No," answered Bell Crawford